THE 


VOLUME   XLVIII 


NUMBER  FIVE 


PRICE  25  CENTS 


OUR  NEXT  PRESIDENT 

THE  ELECTORAL  COLLEGE:  ITS  PREROGATIVES 

AND  POSSIBILITIES 
THE  HERITAGE 
TWO  LOVE'POEMS 
INDUSTRIAL  WAR 

GROUP  OF  IRISH  POETS 

THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC  SERVICE  COMMISSIONS 
THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  SHAWLS  '(POEM) 
G.  K.  CHESTERTON 
PLATITUDE 

MY  NOVEMBER  GUEST  (POEM) 
THE  ETERNAL  MAIDEN 
EDITORIAL  NOTES 


EUGENE  COWLES  POMEROY 
JOHN  WALKER  HOLCOMBE 

• 

ALFRED  NOYES 

GERALD  GOULD 

HUGH  H.  LUSK 

MICHAEL  MONAHAN 

JOHN  S.  KENNEDY 

SHAEMAS  O  SHEEL 

O.  W.  FIRKINS 

VAN  WYCK  BROOKS 

ROBERT  FROST 

T.  EVERETT  HARRE 


PUBLISHED    MONTHLY   BY    MITCHELL    KENNERLEY 
2    EAST    29TH    STREET    NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 


fRS 

fl/. 

•    \*\n 

THE  POETRY  REVIEW 

THE  ST  CATHFRINE  PRESS,  34  NORFOLK  ST,  STRAND,  W.C. 
EDITORIAL  OFFICES:  93  CHANCERY  LANE,  W.C. 

A  Monthly  Periodical  devoted  to  the  criticism  and  appreciation  of 
Modern  Poetry  of  all  countries. 

Founded  in  January  1912,  THE  POETRY  REVIEW  has  now  reached  its 
sixth  issue,  and  it  has  become  possible  to  assert  that  it  fills  a  very  definite 
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All  those  who  appreciate  the  existence  of  the  periodical  should  support 
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Each  issue  contains: 

I.  Articles  on  subjects  connected  with  poetry. 

II.  Original  work  by  one  individual  modern  poet,  with  prefatory  note. 
III.   Reviews  of  current  books  of  poetry,  poetic  criticism  and  biography. 

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VOL.  XLVI1I  MO.  5 

THE  FORUM 

FOR  NOVEMBER  I Q  1 1 

PUBLISHED   MONTHLY   BY  THE   FORUM   PUBLISHING 
COMPANY  2  EAST  29th  STREET  NEW  YORK 


President,  Isaac  L.  Rice 
Sec.  and  Treas.,  Mrs.  Julia  Barnett  Rice 


CONTENTS 

OUR  NEXT  PRESIDENT  EUGENE  COWLES  POMEROY     513 

THE  ELECTORAL  COLLEGE:   ITS  PRE- 

n  JOHN  W.    HOLCOMBE        C26 

ROGATIVES  AND  POSSIBILITIES 

THE  HERITAGE  ALFRED  NOYES  535 

TWO   LOVE-POEMS  GERALD  GOULD  549 

INDUSTRIAL  WAR  HUGH  H.  LUSK  553 

A  GROUP  OF  IRISH   POETS  MICHAEL  MONAHAN  565 

THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC  SERVICE 

COMMISSIONS  JOHN  s'  KENNEDY     5«4 

THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  SHAWLS  (POEM)       SHAEMAS  o  SHEEL  596 

G.  K.  CHESTERTON  o.  w.  FIRKINS  597 

PLATITUDE  VAN  WYCK  BROOKS  608 

MY  NOVEMBER  GUEST   (POEM)  ROBERT  FROST  612 

THE  ETERNAL   MAIDEN  T.  EVERETT  HARRE  613 

EDITORIAL  NOTES  634 

Manuscripts  (not  exceeding  5,000  words  in  length)  should  be  addressed  to  the  Editor  of  The 

Forum,  2  East  29th  St.,  New  York,  and  should  be  accompanied  by  stamped, 

addressed  envelope  for  return 

Entered  at  the  post-office  at  New  York,  N.  Y.,  as  second-class  mail  matter 
Copyright,  1912,  by  Mitchell  Kennerley 


MY   NOVEMBER   GUEST 
ROBERT   FROST 

MY  Sorrow,  when  she's  here  with  me, 
Thinks  these  dark  days  of  autumn  rain 
Are  beautiful  as  days  can  be: 
She  loves  both  bare  and  withered  tree; 
She  walks  the  sodden  pasture  lane. 

Her  pleasure  will  not  let  me  stay. 

She  talks  and  I  am  fain  to  list : 
She's  glad  the  birds  have  gone  away; 

She's  glad  her  simple  worsted  gray 
Is  silvered  now  with  clinging  mist. 

The  fallen,  bird-forsaken  breeze, 

The  faded  earth,  the  heavy  sky, 
The  beauties  she  so  truly  sees, 

She  thinks  I  have  no  eye  for  these, 
And  vexes  me  for  reason  why. 

Not  yesterday  I  learned  to  know 

The  love  of  bare  November  days 
Before  the  coming  of  the  snow; 

But  it  were  vain  to  tell  her  so, 
And  they  are  better  for  her  praise. 


612 


THE    ETERNAL    MAIDEN 
T.  EVERETT  HARRE 

PRELUDE 

Long  ages  ago,  darkness  brooded  over  the  frozen  world  and  held  in 
its  thrall  the  unreleased  waters  of  the  glacial  seas.  There  ivas  no  animal 
life  upon  the  land,  and  in  the  depth  of  the  waters  no  living  thing  stirred. 
Kokoyah,  the  water  god,  breathed  not;  Tornahhuchsuah,  the  earth  spirit, 
who  rules  above  the  spirits  of  the  wind  and  air,  was  veiled  in  dark 
melancholy.  Men  had  risen  like  willows  from  the  frozen  earth;  but,  al- 
though they  lived,  they  were  as  the  dead.  They  spake  not,  neither  did  they 
hunt,  nor  eat,  nor  die.  Then  the  Great  Spirit,  whose  name  is  not  known, 
placed  upon  earth  a  man,  in  his  arms  the  strength  to  kill,  in  his  heart  the 
spark  of  animal  passion.  And  in  that  flowerless  arctic  Eden,  out  of  its 
bounteous  compassion,  the  Great  Spirit  placed  also  a  maiden,  her  face  beau- 
tiful with  the  virgin  youth  of  the  world,  in  her  bosom  implanted  a  yearning, 
not  unmixed  with  fear,  for  love.  Gazing  upon  her,  the  youth's  heart 
stirred  with  desire,  the  maiden's  with  virginal  terror.  The  maiden  fled, 
the  youth  followed.  Over  the  desolate  icy  mountains  the  fleet  foot  of.  the 
youth  sped  with  the  swiftness  of  the  wind  gods,  over  the  silent  white  seas 
the  maiden  with  the  elusiveness  of  the  air  spirits.  In  the  heart  of  the  youth 
throbbed  the  passion  of  love,  indomitable,  eternal,  which  the  blasting  breath 
of  time  should  never  kill.  In  the  maiden's  bosom  quaked  a  reasonless 
shame,  an  unconquerable  terror.  Surrounded  by  her  whirling  cloud  of 
hair,  the  maiden  sprang,  untiring,  across  the  wild  white  world.  His 
strength  failing,  the  youth  pantingly  followed.  Thousands  of  years  passed; 
the  breathless  pursuit  continued;  the  maiden's  nebulous  hair  became  shot 
with  streaks  of  golden  fire,  from  her  eyes  beams  of  light  streamed  across 
the  world  over  which  she  exultantly,  fearfully  bounded;  the  tremulous 
faltering  youth's  face  paled  until  it  shone  silvery  in  the  darkness,  and  the 
beads  of  perspiration  on  his  forehead  glowed  with  a  strange  lustre.  Reach- 
ing, in  their  mad  race,  the  very  end  of  the  world,  the  maiden  leaped,  fiery, 
into  space,  and  her  hair  becoming  suddenly  molten,  she  became  the  sun — 
the  eternal  maiden  Sukh-eh-nukh,  the  beatitiful,  the  all-desired.  Utterly 
exhausted,  his  wan  arms  yearningly  outstretched,  the  youth  swooned  after 
her  into  the  heavens,  and  was  transformed  into  the  moon — the  melancholy, 
ever-desiring,  and  ever-sorrowing  moon.  In  the  smile  of  Sukh-eh-nukh 
the  seas  melted.  Walrus  and  narwhals,  seals  and  whales  came  into  being 
on  the  bosom  of  Kokoyah;  on  the  earth  the  snows  disappeared,  and  the 
brow  of  Tornahhuchsuah  was  crowned  with  green  grasses  and  starry 
flowers.  Men  hunted  game,  women  laughed  for  joy;  they  beat  drums, 
they  danced,  they  sang.  By  the  eternal,  unrequited  passion  of  the  lovers 
in  the  skies,  happiness  and  plenty  came  upon  the  earth.  But,  with  Light, 
came  also  Death.  Jealous  of  men's  happiness,  Perdlugssuak,  the  Great 
Evil,  brought  sickness;  he  struck  men  on  the  hunt,  on  the  seas,  in  the 
mountains.  He  was  ever  feared.  He  made  the  Great  Dark  terrible.  But 
when  the  night  became  bright  with  the  melancholy  silver  of  the  moon, 

613 


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